Sometimes
by demelzap
Summary: This is a BatistaJericho story that does not fit with any of the other BatistaJericho stories I've written, it's a what if first time story.


**Disclaimer: I do not own these character names, no disrespect is intended.**

**Sometimes**

There's a spark of static electricity when I reach out to push the elevator button, and you can hear the snap through the whole lobby. I wince, pull my hand back and stick my finger in my mouth, feeling every bit like the petulant child I know I look. I never like traveling from one hemisphere to another, the abrupt switch from summer to winter is not my idea of fun.

Just as the elevator arrives, Dave appears beside me. He's quiet for a big man, and what's more he always seems to appear when I least expect him to. He reaches out to hold the door open, absorbing the next static charge for me. I spare him a smile as I step into the small car.

"Not heading out with the boys tonight?" I say casually. I manage to punch the floor button without another shock.

He shakes his head, and I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he shoves his hands into his pockets and doesn't punch another floor. "Tired," he says at last. "This jet lag is a killer."

"Don't I know it," I say under my breath. It occurs to me as the elevator rises that this is a prime opportunity to get something I've long been wanting. I turn to look at him fully. "You on ten?"

As the elevator jerks to a stop he arches a brow and reaches out to block the door with his arm. "I think everyone is."

"Well, if you're not going out, what about stopping by my room for a nightcap? It's early." I step out and turn back to give him my most winning smile.

He shrugs as he steps out behind me. "Sure, why not," he says smoothly.

It was almost too easy, I turn and lead the way down the hall, hoping he can't see the spring in my step. Sometimes it's just like shooting fish in a bucket. I thought I wanted to turn in early and watch TV, instead I'm finally going to get a taste of forbidden fruit.

Everything was so rushed when we arrived that someone brought the bags up to the rooms, and we were all shuttled out on a bus to make nice with the fans. I haven't even seen the room yet, but I find my bag right next to the bed, and a small loveseat in front of the window.

"Make yourself at home," I say, "Let me see what there is to drink." I step out of my shoes and casually toss my jacket on the foot of the bed.

"Water's fine for me," he says. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of the straight-backed chair at the desk. His large frame nearly fills the entire loveseat, but there's enough room for me to squeeze in beside him. I hand him a bottle of water and twist the top off my own. "Cheers," I say, tapping my bottle against his.

He takes a long swallow of his water and sits back, slouches down in his seat. "If you're not careful," he says softly, "I'll fall asleep right here and you'll have to put up with my snoring all night."

I choke a little on the water, and raise my hand to wipe it over the back of my mouth. "Oh, I'm that scintillating eh? Already I'm putting you to sleep."

"No Chris," he chuckles, "But like I said, this jet lag has done me in."

"You don't have to stay long," I say, I take another swallow and set the bottle aside. "Life on the road is lonely. Even with all the crew we travel with, sometimes it's just a good honest conversation that you're looking for." I shrug, stretch my legs out on the tabletop in front of us. "It's either that, foreign television, or a phone call home where the time schedule is all fucked."

He sighs deeply. "I was hoping you'd tell me I'd get used to it."

"That's right," I say softly, "This is all new to you. You didn't run the roads like the rest of us did. What, is this your first overseas trip?"

He nods, finishes the water and sets the bottle aside. "The excitement wore off somewhere over the Atlantic," he says. "I'm so screwed up I wouldn't call home even if I could figure out what time it is back there."

I shift so that I am facing him, one knee drawn up on the seat beneath me, not even bothering to apologize for the fact that it's cutting into his thigh. "I wish I could reassure you and tell you you'll get used to it, but sadly I don't think any of us ever get used to it. Sure there's always the thrill of seeing new things you've never seen before, but when your body is anxiously trying to adjust to new time zones, new climates, hell new seasons, even the excitement of seeing a koala bear wears thin. I guess all I can say is that, we're all here for each other. Long as you don't cross any of the veterans you'll always find a sympathetic ear."

"Good to know," he says, he leans back, eyes closed. "I guess, I really should head on to my own room though," he says, "Fading fast."

This is the moment where he'll either get the drift, or kick my ass. I can sense it's important to let him make the first move, so I try to give him the best subtle invitation I can muster. I lean just slightly closer, and whisper, "You don't have to go Dave."

His eyes flutter open, he's close enough to get the invitation I offer, yet I can sense he's still hesitant.

"I can always find a sympathetic ear," he murmurs, his eyes shifting from my eyes to my mouth and back again, "And sometimes a little more?"

"That depends," I say, "But if you're asking, then I'll say yes, in this case you'll find someone who is willing to ease the loneliness. If that's what you want."

He shifts a little closer, his forehead is inches from mine now, "Is it what you want?"

Not it's my turn to look down from his eyes to his mouth, hold my gaze there as I breathe the word, "Yes."

And, just as I'd planned all along, he leans closer and his lips touch mine. I can't move at first with the powerful, intoxicating force of the kiss. He isn't quite as shy as I had anticipated. His lips are soft as they mold against mine, his tongue insistent as he gently pries my lips apart and invades me. His mouth is warm, he tastes pleasant, and I finally reach down and brace a hand against his leg to keep myself from melting down against him.

Now that he has made the first move I know it's time for me to take the reins back before he feels any shame or regret. I slide my hand up from his leg to brace it against his hip, return the kiss with as much fire as he gives me. I pull back, lightly outline his mouth with my tongue and whisper against his lips, "Let me Dave."

He groans his response, and his hand slides up my back to cup the back of my neck as he pulls me in for another deep kiss. It would be easy to indulge in these heady kisses for the rest of the night, like teenagers necking on a first date. I've been around this block a few times before, and when his hand tightens on my neck I make my move. Dexterous fingers from many times practicing, I slip in and unbuckle his belt, pop the snap at his waistband, and grate his zipper down, all the while feeling myself swell impossibly inside my jeans.

His fingers thread up through my hair, he shifts against the loveseat as he pulls me closer and at the same time gives me access to slide my hand inside, find his hard length up tight against his body. I feel his shiver as I close my hand around his base, and pull up to the tip, squeezing gently to release just a drop of his precum.

"Yes," he whispers.

It doesn't take much effort to push his jeans down just enough to give me room to stroke him more firmly. The sound of his belt buckle jingling just heightens the arousal the courses through me. He breaks the kiss and nibbles across my cheek while his hand slides out from behind my neck, travels down to close over my arm as my muscles bunch with the work of jerking him slowly through my fist. The nibbling kiss ends at my earlobe, and its my turn to shiver with the erotic bolt that jolts through me.

Without releasing him I slide from the loveseat, push the table aside and kneel on the floor in front of him. He pulses in my hand as I take a moment to just look at him, large and sprawled open. As I watch he reaches up and unbuttons his shirt, exposing the tight muscles of his abdomen and chest. I wrench his jeans down further and leave him completely exposed to my hungry eyes.

His eyes hold a challenge, I bend forward and place my lips gently against his belly and the vivid tattoo that resembles a mouth. I hear him gasp, and his cock throbs again in my hand. I sit back on my heels, pull his cock upright, then bend forward and take him inside my mouth.

His breath hisses in, and one hand comes down, fingers thread through my hair. My nostrils flair as I press down, he guides me gently and moans as I rise up and graze him lightly with my teeth. For just this moment I concentrate on the feeling of having him helpless below me this way, in the way he tastes, in the desperate way he grips the back of my head, in the throaty moans as he pushes up against me. And then his hands tighten in my hair, and he exerts gentle pressure to raise me, meet my eyes, and urge me up to straddle over his lap.

There is no need for words, we both seem to want the same thing. Impatient fingers grasp the hem of my sweatshirt and pull it up over my head. Warm hands skim up my chest, callused fingers pinch my nipples, I arch forward and open my mouth on a long wail. And then he pulls me close, his cheek pressed against my chest as his clumsy fingers work at the buttons on my fly. They pop open and then his large hand cages my cock and I have to bite my lip to keep from spilling right then from the intensity. A strong hand supports my lower back, and he murmurs, "I want you Chris."

"And you can have me Dave," I respond.

My legs shake as I back off his lap, step out of my jeans and cover the short distance to the bed. I yank the cover from the bed, and flop down on the cool sheets as he frees himself from shoes and pants, and lets his crisp shirt slide from his shoulders. There's only one bedside lamp lit, but it's enough to show me the contours of his body as he approaches the bed. I sweep my eyes down from the eager expression on his face to his magnificent body, larger now that he's unclothed. I reach down to cup my own cock up against my body and spread my legs to let him see all of me that he wants to see.

"Let me check the bathroom," he says, "For lotion."

Two spots of color form on my cheeks. "I have lube, in the outside pocket of my bag." The color deepens as his brow arches. He turns to look for the bag. "Look at it this way, either you were going to say yes, or I could use it after you left to jack off while the scent of you still lingered in the room."

"You seem to know exactly what you want," he murmurs as he climbs up to kneel between my legs, the bottle of lube tucked in his palm as he warms it. "You seem pretty sure of me."

"Not sure at all," I say honestly. "Just glad I didn't misjudge you Dave."

"David," he murmurs, his fingers are gentle as he slides over my sack and down to gently probe against my hole.

"David," I whisper, pressing out against his questing fingers. Somehow permission to use this name takes this to another level. It's the last conscious thought formed in my head before he pours a stream of the warmed lube over my cock, balls, and his fingers. From that point on it's all liquid desire as he expertly stretches, strokes, arouses me to a razor's edge of desire. All I can do is raise my knees, spread myself wider, and watch as he lubes his massive cock. I lose myself in his eyes as he positions and pushes inside.

The white hot pain of penetration is eased by his gentle hands on my hip, my ass, the way he pushes in to hold as I finish stretching and grip him tightly inside me. As I relax down against the bed below us he raises up enough to give himself room to slip his hand between our bodies, and he cradles my throbbing cock. The sensation of having him buried inside me as he strokes me closer and closer to release nearly blows my mind, I haven't seen this much care from a lover in so long that I forget what it feels like. In a flash I feel myself arch up against him, seating him deeper inside me as I explode through his hand, eyes closed, knowing that he hears the wail of release that I myself can't hear because I am far too overwhelmed.

He strokes until it's just too much, and then he senses, and stops, and just holds me as I float through the colored world of this powerful orgasm. As I sink back to earth I open my eyes, and find him watching me. Slowly he releases my cock, raises his hand to his mouth and I hold my breath as I watch him kiss the knuckles of his fist, then lower his hand to my mouth as though he's transferred the kiss to me. As my lips purse against his jism covered fist I'm struck with the incongruity of the tender act from such a fierce man. In that instant I realize that I haven't quite gotten what I wanted at all.

Before the thought fully forms his hand is withdrawn, and he braces himself against the bed. The first thrust is gentle, but as his eyes slip closed and I see him slide into the rhythm, the thrusting becomes harder, more abandoned. I feel his own orgasm coil within him and watch it as it breaks through his body, head to toe. He shudders hard with the intensity as his cum fills my passage, and I feel myself harden again for yet another small release. When he subsides against me, I tighten around him, inside and out as I hook my legs up around his back, and arms around his neck.

All I had wanted was an answer to my curiosity, a brush with the monster. As he softens, and slips from within me, rolls down beside me while still holding me gently, I realize that this is much more than what I thought I wanted. This is just a beginning, and already muzzy thoughts are building in the back of my head. He brushes his lips against my forehead, and whispers, "Goodnight."

I reach behind me for the covers, flip them over us snugly. Sometimes it's good when you don't get exactly what you wanted.

In the morning, there will be no awkwardness between us.

_Distribution: TwoIntoOne only_


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